


Mother Knows Best

by StarlightSystem



Series: Transcendence AU [14]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence (Gravity Falls), Angst, Flashbacks, Gen, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21708778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightSystem/pseuds/StarlightSystem
Summary: Answering an oddly familiar summons, Alcor finds himself face-to-face with none other than his own mother. Sure, she died years ago and reincarnated as someone completely different, but it's a little hard for Alcor to see past who she once was. As time goes on, however, he starts to wonder if maybe she really has changed -- and maybe, just maybe, if things could be better between them this time.
Series: Transcendence AU [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1372192
Comments: 37
Kudos: 94
Collections: TAU Discord Recs, Transcendence AU Ficathon 2019





	1. Summoned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ToothPasteCanyon (DannyFenton123)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyFenton123/gifts).



> Here's my entry for the 5th Annual [Transcendence AU](https://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/) Ficathon! It's a little late but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
> 
> The prompt I used was "Dipper and his mother have a talk", but I decided to take it in a bit of a different direction. :)

It was a clean summoning, one of the smoothest he'd felt in a while. No incorrect symbols on the circle. Plain candles, flames lapping at the wick, fresh from the box. Flawless Latin that sang across the Mindscape to bring him forth, instead of the grating mispronunciations he'd gotten more and more accustomed to as the years passed and there was almost no one left who even knew that Latin was a language.

Why then, Alcor wondered, did this summoning feel so off? Why was there a bitter edge to the call that triggered his fight or flight response in a way that a sad group of cultists hadn't managed to do in decades? And why did it feel so _familiar_?

The structure of a room pulled itself together around him, and with a pop he was there. By the blue light of the candles, he noticed that the room he’d been summoned to was actually quite small -- most likely a bedroom, given the bed tucked in the corner. He couldn’t help but notice the walls coated in boy band posters -- his mind jumped right to Mabel, filling his brain with a fuzzy sadness that wasn’t appropriate for a summoning.

That sadness evaporated pretty quickly when he saw the pro-nat hate speech on the posters hidden beneath them. He had a few guesses as to how this was going to go. Might as well get on with it.

" **W̞̦̙̬̪̻̳H͖̦̲̟̻̖O̯͡ ̨̻̻̫̜͔̗͇D̛͔̣A̹͚͢R̞E͇̻͎̰S ̭͇͚͔T̹̣͔̦͎̝O̧ ̛̥̦̥̼̗S̢̳U͇M̦̘̺̰̲M̻̥̳̫̝̟O̩̗̥̦N͞ ͉͖̪̰͚̖A̙̣̠̫̬̗̰L̸̲C̭̠̖̣͚O͕͇͇͍̲͍R͖͕̞̲̣ ̷͔̙T̠̘͢H͔̼͉E̠̩͇̖͔̕ ̴D͉͙R҉̳͓̯̼̺E̢̘̬̱̠A͓̰̗͇̪͚M̜͎̟͇͍̱̺B̟̦̱̪̕E̲̘̯̙̜͘N̵͈̜̝D͏͈͓E̝͇̺̹R̛̝̱̳̭?͖̖͔̩̙͉̟** " he roared.

The only person in the room was a young woman -- couldn't have been more than 25 -- who practically jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. She had mousy brown hair ( _she’d considered dyeing it many, many times, but always chickened out in the stylist’s chair_ ) and stunning green eyes ( _contacts -- her eyes were really brown but she figured if her eyesight was poor enough that she needed contacts she might as well be adventurous_ ), was dressed in a plain t-shirt and jeans ( _all of her nice clothes were in the wash_ ), and had a tilted cross on a necklace tucked underneath her shirt.

"It's, uh," she stammered, "my name is Arielle, and…"

"That's your first mistake, kid," Alcor cut in. "Never tell a demon your real name. Not that it matters too much to me since I already know it, but if you get any other lesser demon in here? Forget about it, they'd _love_ to use that against you."

Arielle's aura flickered anxiously, and she drew her arms close to her chest. "Y-yeah? Why's that?"

Alcor flipped over so he was lying on his back in midair, his head upside down from her perspective. "True names are powerful. If you know someone’s true name, you have access to who they really are. It’s the best way to control someone without literally owning their soul.”

“Owning… their soul?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re kidding me. You don’t know what a soul is?”

She frowned. “I know what a soul is. But I didn’t think you could control someone with their soul.”

“Oh, you totally can! Well, _you_ can’t. _I_ can, ‘cause I’m a demon and all. It’s kind of our specialty.” He uncrossed his arms and let them dangle beneath him. “But enough about that. Why don’t you tell me what someone like you is doing summoning a demon? Last I heard, the New Canaan Methodist Church wasn’t too fond of my folk.”

She practically seized up in shock. “What?”

He rolled over onto his front, leaning on some invisible plane with his elbows, and let a wide grin spread across his face. “I just couldn’t help but notice what a nice necklace you’re wearing. The NCMC and I aren’t the closest of friends, you know. I’ve got some hilarious stories I could tell you -- wow, where to begin…”

“Hang on, what?” she cut in, and then slapped her hands to her mouth, apparently in shock at the fact that she’d just spoken back to a demon.

Alcor flipped over into a seated position. “No storytime?”

“No, I just…” She reached under her top and pulled out the necklace. “Did you look through my shirt? That’s very rude.”

Alcor spluttered and turned pink. “What? No! I mean I guess I technically did, but not like that! I just wanted to see what was on your necklace.” He cowed under the furious glare she was giving him. “Hey, I’m asking the questions here! Regardless of where the necklace was, you’re still a New Canaanite!”

She deflated a little, but the irritated look didn’t leave her face. “I’m… I’m not, okay? Not anymore.”

He cocked his head curiously, the pink tinge slowly dissipating from his cheeks. “Anymore?”

She sighed, and looked away. “This is all my parents’ stuff, okay? It’s not my fault they’re Canaanites! They tried to make me go along with their hateful garbage, but I didn’t really believe, so I left. They didn’t like that, and they forced me to keep wearing the necklace ‘as protection’. They literally glued the clasp together -- I can’t take it off. So I hide it under my clothes. Happy?”

Alcor frowned. She… was lying to him.

At least about the parents thing -- he could sense her parents in the next room, could practically smell the unconditional love radiating off of them, nauseatingly sweet to his delicate nose. He had a hard time believing that the kind of people who smelled like that would glue an extremist group’s iconography to their child.

But… maybe they weren’t her real parents. If she left the NCMC, she might’ve been forced to leave the community too. It sort of held up as a story. And besides, he didn’t want to ditch this summoning just yet. He needed to know why he was sure he’d met her before.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” he said finally. “What do you want?”

She looked surprised for a moment, and then nodded. “I want you to go to the local chapter of the New Canaan Methodist Church. In the back room, where they keep the picket signs, there’s a warded chest. The chapter leader stole something important from me. I want you to get it back.”

He narrowed his eyes, and peered through space. As he did so, his wings went translucent, and an image of the room in question appeared over them. Alcor saw the chest -- it was surrounded by binding circles and wards, but nothing that he wouldn’t be able to handle. With effort, he peeked into the chest -- why _did_ it have so many wards around it? -- and did a double take when he saw what was inside.

“Really? You summoned a demon to fetch a stuffed animal for you?”

She scowled. “It’s important to me and I want it back! I’ve _got_ payment. You can have my memories of first grade. You like memories, right?”

Alcor scratched his chin. He did like memories, and the ones he could see dancing in her skull seemed particularly juicy. Besides, the stuffed animal thing reminded him of Mabel again. But this couldn’t be _her_. He’d know, wouldn’t he?

“Alright.” He reached toward her, blue flame dancing on his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Her eyes lit up in a brilliant display of hope and gratitude. “Thank you so much,” she said. Her aura changed -- greed pulsating through it so vibrantly that it felt like she was screaming into his eyeballs -- and she smiled. “Finally, I’ll get her away from that monster.”

Alcor’s face twitched. Her voice called out to him through the recesses of his mind.

_Thank the stars I’ve got you away from that monster!_

He jerked his hand back before she could grab it. "No," he breathed. "That's how I know you. That's who you are. You almost tricked me. How dare you."

Her smile faltered, and she took a step back. "Uh, what?"

He clenched his fists, and black void rippled across his body. "How **Ḑ̛̜͇̱̟͈̺̩̭̪̳̖̦̹̹̣̩̉ͣ́̂̌͋̉͗͒ͯͪ̓̒̎͜͞Ạ̸̟̹̼̫̭̫̙͔͖̙̝̲̳̺̭̺̃̑̆ͣͪ͆͑͋͑͒ͪͫͭ͗͒͝R̐̈́̂͞͡҉̦̭̖̬̮̜̞E̡ͯ̊ͦ͆̀̐͆ͤ͊̽ͯ̅̄̐͗̊͌̽̇͜͠҉͉̯̯͈͈͓̮̥̫̠͉̞̣̼͔** you!" he screeched, sending a shockwave through the air that knocked items off their shelves and whipped her hair up into a tangled mess. "I wasn't good enough for you before, and now you want my help?"

She gibbered under the gaze of the incensed demon. "What? This is the first time I've summoned you!"

"Oh sure, just pretend like you don't even know me anymore! Hah, not like it's the first time you've ever done that!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I swear!"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Can it -- I've had enough. The deal's off, _Mom_!"

With that, he vanished, leaving behind a very confused summoner. He tessered to the Mystery Shack, to Mabel and Henry’s old room, and stood there fuming for a minute. Then, he pulled his arm back, balled his hand into a fist, and punched the wall so hard that a big chunk of it flew out into the woods.

His breaths gradually slowed, becoming longer and deeper, the better to draw unnecessary air into his fake lungs, because he enjoyed the taste of it -- enjoyed the game -- because it helped ground him and distract him from the fact that he was capable of punching through a wall at a moment’s notice. That -- he began to realize, as his thoughts slowed down too -- may not have been the best idea. At least no one had seen him lose his temper like that.

“Um.”

Alcor turned around so quickly that he may have skipped over the “turning” part entirely. Willow was standing in the hall, just outside the door to the room, holding a teapot in one hand and her inhaler in the other.

“Everything okay, Uncle Dipper?” she asked, sounding more concerned than nervous. She did not step into the room.

Alcor looked down. “Everything’s _fine_ , now.” He grimaced. “But I’d love a cup of tea, if you’re offering.”

She shrugged. “Well, I guess I’m offering now.” Alcor started to move forward, and she wagged a finger at him. “ _If_ , that is, you fix the wall you just destroyed.”

He smiled weakly, and let his hand ignite into flame. “That’s the best offer I’ve heard all day. Deal.”

Willow shook his hand, and walked off toward the kitchen. Alcor started to follow, and then paused. He looked back at the hole he’d just punched in the wall and sucked in a deep breath.

That sure was a soul he’d never expected to see again. After all he’d been through, he thought she’d be smart enough to keep away. And yet she had the gall to summon him like nothing had ever happened. Like she’d done nothing wrong.

Like she wasn’t Anna Pines. Like she wasn’t his mother.

He snapped his fingers, and the hole in the wall fixed itself. He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute, and then headed off to the kitchen.

* * *

_The circle was drawn. The candles were set. The sacrifice -- a can of Pitt Cola -- was ready. It was to be a flawless summoning._

_The only problem was the unwilling demon._

_“Mabel, are you sure this is a good idea?” Dipper asked._

_“Yeah, bro-bro, it’ll be great!” Mabel replied in a singsong voice while fiddling with a book of matches. “You said it yourself, Mr. Knows-Everythingpants -- if we do this, then you can be physical for a bit!”_

_Dipper bit his fingernails -- nails that he couldn’t help but notice were getting longer every day and starting to look a little more like claws than human nails. “That’s not the problem.”_

_Mabel looked at her brother and rested a hand on her hip. “You’re worried about how they’re going to react?”_

_He nodded. “They’re our parents. What if they don’t… what if they’re scared of me?”_

_“Yeah, they are our parents, and that’s why I think it’s gonna go great! They think you’re_ dead _, Dipdops -- they’re gonna be so happy to see that you’re still alive after all!”_

_Dipper frowned. “I don’t think it’s that easy -”_

_“Too bad!” Mabel chirped, cutting him off. Having lit the last candle, she pricked her finger and let a drop of blood fall into the circle. “Come on out!”_

_“Ack!” Dipper let out a squeak as the air twisted around him and he was yanked out of the Mindscape. He felt the atoms rushing around him -- actual, physical matter, collecting on his body and forming a tangible shell. Then he was deposited above the circle, only a few feet away from where he started, but now very much_ real _._

_He gaped, the sensations of reality overpowering him for a moment. “Oh my stars, it worked,” he breathed. “I’m actually here, I can feel the air around me, oh wow, I forgot how good this feels!” He let out a little cackle and stretched like he’d been cooped up in a box for weeks._

_Mabel grinned. “And you dared to doubt me!” She jumped into the circle with him and gave him a massive hug._

_“Mabel, stoppppp,” he whined playfully. “You can already hug me even when I’m not physical.”_

_“I got excited!” she said, giggling. “But I know a couple of people who_ can’t _hug you normally! Come on, let’s go!” She tugged on his hand and tried to pull him out of the circle._

_“Wait…”_

_“Nuh-uh, broski! You gotta do this, no weaseling out of it! How much time does that can of soda get you?”_

_He glanced at his wrist, as if he were wearing a watch. “Twenty minutes, I think. But…”_

_“That’s barely any time! If you’re going to have a heartfelt reunion with your parents, it’s gotta be now!”_

_He slumped. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll do it.”_

_She brightened, which was impressive given how excited she’d already appeared. “Yay! Let’s go, they’ll be so excited to see you!”_

_Dipper had his doubts, but he let himself be pulled from the circle. Mabel skipped out of the room, down the hall, and up to their parents’ closed bedroom door. She knocked three times on the door as Dipper started chewing his nails again._

_“Mabel, is that you?” came a groggy-sounding voice from the room._

_“Yeah, Mom!” she sang. “I know it’s late, but I’ve got someone here you should see!”_

_“Can it wait until the morning? Your father and I aren’t exactly prepared to meet anyone right now.”_

_“Oh, don’t worry, you already know him!” She opened the door and rushed in, pulling Dipper by the hand with her. “Tada!” she announced._

_The room was dark, but for the light from the hallway, and the glow of Dipper’s eyes. “Mabel, sweetie,” replied the voice, “it’s 2am. You can show us your new stuffed animals in the morning.”_

_There was a click, and the lamp beside the bed switched on, revealing their parents. Their father still seemed to be asleep, but their mom was sitting up in bed, a nightmask resting on her forehead, sleepily rubbing her eyes. When she finished and finally took in the scene in front of her, her entire body froze up, every muscle screaming in obvious terror._

_“Hi Mom,” Dipper offered nervously, giving a little wave._

_Mabel, oblivious to her mother’s body language, beamed at him. “Here he is! In the flesh! Uhh, well, sort of…”_

_“Mabel?” their mother asked, voice shaking worse than an action figure in a blender. “Wh-wh-wh-what wh-what is_ that _?”_

_Mabel frowned. “It’s Dipper! I told you he was still alive!”_

_“I know I look a little different,” Dipper started, “but…”_

_Their mom seemed to break past her paralysis, and started shaking her husband vigorously. “Mark._ Mark _! Wake up, wake up!”_

_“Yeah, this isn’t going well,” Dipper muttered under his breath. Mabel glared at him._

_“What is it, Anna?” their father asked. He opened his eyes, took in the sight in front of him, and then jumped about a foot into the air. “Demon!” he yelled. “There’s a demon in here!”_

_“Dad, it’s just Dipper, calm down!” Mabel yelled back. “I told you he was a demon now!”_

_Their father grabbed his phone off the bedside table and started pawing frantically at it. “What do we do, Anna? There’s a demon in here! What do we do what do we do what do we do -”_

_“Quit gibbering, Mark!” their mother spat. “They feed on fear!”_

_“Mom, Dad, please, I’m not going to hurt you…” Dipper said lamely._

_Their father turned sheet white. His mouth flapped open and shut wordlessly, and then he managed to croak, “Dipper?”_

_Mabel glanced at her brother, grinning again. “Yes! It’s him!”_

_“No, it’s not!” their mother yelled. “Stop it, Mabel, and -- Mark, will you_ quit it _!”_

_“I can’t,” he moaned, “that- that’s the demon that killed Dipper, and it’s here to get the rest of us, I knew this was going to happen!”_

_Their mother glared daggers at him, and then gestured frantically at Mabel. “Get over here now,” she ordered. “Get away from it!”_

_Dipper shivered -- despite the fact that he was a demon now, his mother’s angry voice still intimidated him. “I- I can explain everything, I promise!”_

_“It’s lying, Mabel -- do as I say and get over here!”_

_Mabel half turned to Dipper, looking as shocked as if she’d seen a flying saucer. “Dipper, I didn’t think they’d act like this, I…”_

_She let out a squeak as her mother wrapped her arms around her stomach and yanked her backwards. “There you go, sweetheart, thank the stars I’ve got you away from that monster!”_

_“Let go of me!” Mabel shrieked. She tried to squirm her way out of her mother’s grasp, but it was too strong. “Dipper!”_

_“Mabel!” Dipper cried. He shot forward, and -_

_There was a popping noise, and the summons expired._

_Dipper was still in his parents’ room, but he could tell by the sudden lack of sensation that he was no longer corporeal, and that once again only Mabel could see him. He watched his parents’ faces twist from fear and anger into utter relief; watched how they held Mabel close and said how worried they’d been; watched Mabel’s apologetic look as she glanced back at him._

_It didn’t matter. He knew it would happen. There was nothing he could’ve said to make that first meeting go better. He floated through the wall to his bedroom, collapsed above his bed, and let the little yellow tears on his pillow speak for themselves._


	2. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the slow updates! Here, have some r!Anna in this trying time~

One moment Alcor was sitting in the Mindscape, deep in a game of Uno with Lolonja. The nightmare had just played a Wild Draw 4 and was wearing a sly grin, which for her species was expressed not as a tilt of the mouth but rather as a gnashing of various pairs of fangs that covered her body. Alcor, annoyed at having already lost two games in a row, was considering using his powers to stack the deck in his favor. He took a look at the cards he’d drawn and groaned at the sight of three Mizars and a Bill. That was the last straw. He hid his hand behind his back so Lolonja wouldn’t notice him snapping his fingers.

The next moment, the game was rudely cut short by a hand grabbing him around the middle and wrenching him off the ground. He yelped in surprise and let go of his cards, which ended up scattered across the various minds and concepts he was being pulled through. Finally he was deposited flat on his butt above a wooden floor with a circle drawn on it.

He stood up with a grunt and dusted himself off. Of course. It was a summons. It had cut right through his answering machine, which either meant that the summoner was very powerful or that it was a return call. Either way, his head was literally spinning from the force of the call, and he could barely make out his surroundings.

“Uh, are you okay?” asked a familiar voice.

Alcor grabbed his head to steady himself, and found himself in a room he’d definitely been in before. He rolled his eyes at the sight of Arielle standing in front of the circle. “Oh. It’s you again. Can’t you take a hint? I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Yeah, but I want to talk to you!” she replied. “Why don’t you want to talk to me? Why’d you run off like that? Why did you call me _mom_?”

His face turned a light red, but he parried by sneering at her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would. I really would.” She began pacing back and forth, fiddling with her necklace and not even looking at him as she spoke. “I mean, that was a really weird thing to say. For a lot of reasons. Like, legitimately _so_ many reasons. I can’t stop thinking about it. You can’t just leave without giving me some sort of explanation.”

He stuck out his tongue. “I can, actually! Why would I tell you any of that?”

She grabbed something off her desk and showed it to him -- a rare, juicy steak. “We could make a deal. This steak, for answers to my questions?”

Alcor stared at the offering and unconsciously licked his lips. “Hmm. That steak, for the answers to those three questions?” He thought about it briefly, trying to ignore the way she was smirking at the obvious hunger in his eyes. “Alright,” he decided, once again extending a hand bathed in blue flame. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

She reached through the perimeter of the circle to shake on the deal. There was a flash of light, and then the steak was in Alcor’s hands. He grinned at Arielle, stretching his mouth wide to show off as much of his teeth as he could, before effortlessly sinking them into the meat, jerking his head back to tear a strip of it off, and then swallowing it as noisily as he could. He was glad to see the returning look of discomfort on Arielle’s face.

“Ok…” she started, after Alcor had finished most of the steak. “Now you have to answer my questions.”

Alcor, swallowing the last bit of meat, burped loudly (not that he had a digestive system -- he just really wanted to gross Arielle out) and patted his stomach. “Wow, that sure was a good meal! I gotta say, I’m still a bit peckish, but I’m sure I’ll find _something_ to eat later.” He licked some bits of flesh off of his claws and grinned again, eliciting a shiver from Arielle. “But, a deal’s a deal! This won’t take long, though -- all of your questions have the same answer!”

There was a tense silence. “And that is?” Arielle finally asked.

Alcor pretended to be deep in thought, and then snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah! That’s why! **I̳̟͕̜͙ ͕̘̰̮h͎͍̣͡a̷̺̻̯̼t͓e ͉͈͔͇͖̥y͎͉o̘͢u̶̗̲.** ”

He cackled, enjoying the shocked look on Arielle’s face, and then turned around so he could dramatically tesser away. However, just before his feet left the ground, he heard a “wait!”, and a hand wrapped itself around his wrist. There wasn’t any time to react before he was deposited in the Mystery Shack with an unwelcome guest.

Alcor shook his hand free, and turned on Arielle. “What was that for? Did you really think it’d be a good idea to follow an extremely dangerous demon back to the Mindscape?” He tried to stare her down, but her own glare was more than a little discomforting.

“You cheated! You didn’t answer my questions!” she yelled. “Besides, this doesn’t look like the Mindscape! This just looks like someone’s house.”

“Uncle Dipper?” came Willow’s voice from the hallway at exactly the worst possible moment. “Is that you? When did you get -” She appeared on the other side of the open doorway, and cut off at the sight of not only her demon uncle but also a complete stranger. “Oh. Hello.”

Alcor winced. “Willow, I need a minute -” he started, but Arielle’s surprised voice rang over his.

“This _is_ just someone’s house! Why’d you go to someone’s house?”

Alcor swiveled back to face her. “I don’t have to tell you that! I’m Alcor the Dreambender! I can go anywhere I damn please! Now _you_ ,” (he punctuated the word with a growl) “ _you’re_ not supposed to be here. And just so you know, I didn’t cheat, I really do hate you and that really is the answer to all three of your questions.”

Willow’s eyes bounced between the two people who’d just appeared in her house. “Should I go, or…?”

Arielle stomped a foot. “But that’s not fair! I never did anything to you!”

Alcor growled again. “Wrong! You made me feel like a monster!”

“Uhh… Alcor?” Willow asked cautiously.

Alcor ignored her, and continued yelling at Arielle. “You told your friends and family I was dead!”

“Hey, Alcor? Maybe you shouldn’t…”

“You hated me so much that you preferred kicking your children out of your house to having to **t̥r̨͙̝̭͎e͉̺͖͡a̰͔̘̩̼͞t ͖̲̜m̴̜̝̩̻̗͉͓e̬̹̱̰̱̫͍ ̖̬l̸̳͈̻̜̥i̞̥̫͔̕ķ͕͍ḙ͉͔̣ ̵͚̝͙̦̼̬̬a̟̜̜̺̞ ͇̝͉̼͕̟̹p̥͇̬͓̲͢ͅe҉̠r̙̰̤͉s̙͔͚̭̲̜ͅo̱͕̼n͏̺̺̳͉̤**!”

“ALCOR!” Willow shouted.

Alcor spun around. “ **W̭̯͇̞̳͔̗͇͝͝͝h͏̞͚͕̺̻͡a̳͙͢t̵̸͏̞̺̭͚̟̦͇?** ”

Willow -- used to this kind of thing -- didn’t flinch. “Who is this? I don’t think they have any idea what you’re talking about.”

He scowled. “Of course she does! That’s my -” He turned back, fire in his eyes, a snarl ready on his lips, ready to expose his mother for the villain she was -

And then paused. Let his quivering arm drop to his side. Opened his eyes wide to take in the girl’s face and not her soul.

This wasn’t his mother at all.

“Willow, come with me.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room before she could answer, all without taking his eyes off of Arielle, who just stared back at him with an indignant look on her face until she was out of view.

When they got to the end of the hallway and Alcor released her from his grip, Willow dropped into a chair and rubbed her arm. “What’s the big idea?” she huffed. “That hurt.”

He shook his head. “Sorry. Are you okay?”

She crossed her arms. “I’m fine. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Uh… It’s a bit hard to explain…”

“Okay, then start with the strange girl in the parlour. You know her from somewhere?”

He bit his lip. “Sort of? She summoned me once before. Uh… that time I punched a hole in the wall.”

Willow grimaced. “Oof. She was that bad? Did you have to do something to her? Why’d she summon you again?”

“She didn’t do anything.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “In fact, all she wanted was a toy back that someone had stolen. For all I know, she’s a good kid.”

“Then why -”

“She’s Mom.” He looked through the wall, at that glowing orb bouncing lightly in the girl’s chest, and Anna Pines stared back at him. Furious. Scared. _Dead_. “I mean, she has my mom’s soul.”

“Really? I thought only demons could steal souls from people.”

He tilted his head in confusion, but didn’t break his eyes away from Arielle. “What?”

“That girl. Is she a demon or something? How’d she get your mom’s soul?”

Alcor blinked, trying to piece together in his head what Willow was asking. “She, uh, no she, wait what?” The soul kept bobbing, swirling, breathing, and it was hard to focus on anything else. “It’s no, uh, who’s a demon? I’m the demon… what?”

Willow, who even in her old age was considerably bigger than the demon, grabbed her uncle by the shoulders and spun him around so he was facing her. “Use your English words, Uncle Dipper. Why does the girl have your mom’s soul and why does it matter?”

Alcor’s babbling trailed off and he deflated. “Sorry. I, uh, I told you about the reincarnation cycle, right? Souls get recycled when people die so that they can go on to be new people. Mom’s soul got put in this girl apparently.”

“Yeah?” Willow put on a straight face as she stared down at him. “Why does that matter?”

“Well, because...! She...! Aaaa!” Alcor flailed his arms around in frustration. He shifted his form so that he was five inches taller than his niece instead of five inches shorter, and crossed his arms so that he looked confident. “I look at her and all I see is my mom! It’s these stupid demon eyes! I see her soul clearer than her face, and it’s really hard to look past that!”

Willow dragged over a chair and stood on it so that she was taller than him again. “So? Why do you even have to? If you’d just made a deal with her and been done with it then she wouldn’t have summoned you again and followed you home.”

Alcor scowled, and grew again so that his head was almost bumping up against the ceiling. “It’s not that easy! It’s like… it’s like my mom had an identical twin. That’s what it looks like to me.”

She looked nonplussed. “You and Mom are twins and you look pretty different.”

“Oh come on, that’s totally not the same thing! I kind of had a big change when I was growing up!”

“So did your mom’s soul! She’s a different person now!”

Alcor scrunched up his face and tried to grow even taller. He immediately banged his head against the ceiling and yelped in pain. His extra height telescoped back into him with a pop, leaving him to tumble through the air and fall flat on his face.

“Shit, sorry Uncle Dipper,” Willow squeaked. “Are you okay?”

She moved to try to help him up, but he waved her off. “I’m fine.” Without moving a muscle, he floated up off the ground and flipped over so he was standing up straight. He dusted off his suit jacket and gave her a weak smile. “Tada!” Willow didn’t look impressed, so he coughed into his fist and squared his shoulders. “Okay. Look. It’s just… very weird for me. But I guess you’re sort of right.”

Willow shrugged. “Sorry if that was a bombshell. I mean, you were acting really weird, but it’s fine now I guess. I know it’s hard for you but people aren’t who they were in their past lives.”

“You’re right,” he breathed, staring off into space. “They can be better.”

“Yeah, they can -” Willow started, and then faltered when she parsed her uncle’s words. “Wait, what?”

A grin spread across Alcor’s face. “This is big, Wills. Mom’s different from the last time I met her. Maybe we could actually be friends this time. Ooooooooooo it’s like a redo! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. You’re a genius!” He hopped around giddily and clapped his hands like he’d won the lottery.

“That’s not at all what I meant,” Willow piped in, but Alcor barely heard her.

“This’ll be great!” he squealed. “I just have to remember how to make friends. Should I make a list? No, I can do this. She’s a different person. She’s a different person. She’s a different person. Let’s go!”

He grabbed Willow’s hand and started leading her back down the hall. Thoughts of second chances and a bigger family danced in his head. He couldn’t believe the opportunity he’d been given, an opportunity to fix something that had gone wrong long ago, an opportunity to heal the wounds his parents had left in him. All of a sudden, everything seemed so hopeful.

Then a voice cut into his thoughts like a knife through butter.

“Come on, Arielle, you’ve got this.” She sounded harsh and disciplined, like a drill instructor, which was in stark contrast to the adorable way her voice had squeaked when she had been yelling at him earlier. “You’ve got to get through this. You can do it. You’ve waited too long to give up.”

Alcor froze midstep. Arielle’s voice went in one ear but what reached his brain was something much older.

_You’ve got to get through this -- it’s for your family! You’ve got to keep them safe!_

A cold pit settled in Alcor’s stomach. He opened his mouth to speak, and then Willow -- not having expected him to stop short -- promptly crashed into him from behind. They stumbled into the room in a chorus of yelps, making Arielle jump up from where she was seated on the floor. Alcor quickly righted himself with his floating, and grabbed Willow before she hit the floor. He took a moment to catch his breath, and then turned to look at Arielle.

The look he got in response made him start to rethink whether a second chance at family was likely to happen.

“Are you done now?” Arielle asked. The harsh edge was gone from her voice, but the result was almost worse. She didn’t sound annoyed anymore, she sounded hurt. “You done leaving me alone in some random house? Or are you here to yell at me some more?”

Alcor, despite not having any actual skin, felt a nervous bead of sweat roll down his face. Oh yeah. His previous actions had consequences. He glanced at Willow, who immediately put her hands up and slowly backed away. He grimaced and -- unable to find any words -- just shook his head.

“Cool. Are you going to answer my questions now? Or are you sticking to ‘I hate you’?”

The demon gurgled weakly. He tried to think of how to answer her questions for real, how to explain what was going on and the opportunity they now had, but he couldn’t say a word. Anna’s voice kept getting in the way. He took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on her face -- her real self, because that was what mattered now -- but despite his efforts he couldn’t help letting his gaze fall to stare at her soul.

Arielle scowled. “Great. This was totally worthless then. I guess I’m not getting my stuffed animal _or_ any answers today! Just let me go home. Or are you going to make me make a _deal_ for that?”

Alcor could only gape wordlessly as the gears in his mind ground to a halt. One voice bled into another and it was almost like his mother was yelling at him again. His ideas of redemption were shattering before his eyes and he didn’t know how to fix it.

He felt a light tap on his side. A hand wrapped around his own, which he hadn’t realized he’d balled into a fist. He let Willow’s fingers fold together with his, let his bond with her relax him and calm his thoughts down just a little bit. Just enough that he could swallow his spit and croak out “No. It’s on the house.”

He met Arielle’s eyes and the disapproving glare he got stung like a swarm of bees. He quickly snapped his fingers, and she was gone.

There was a tense silence, filled only with heavy breathing, both human and demon. Then:

“That went poorly,” Willow muttered.

Alcor sniffed. “Yeah. It did. That… was embarrassing.” He hung his head. ”Sorry you had to see your uncle be such a dink.”

She shook her head and engulfed him in a hug. “No, I'm sorry. All I did was tell you that you were wrong for thinking a certain way. It's okay if things are weird between you and that soul. At least she’s gone now and you don't have to deal with her again.”

“I guess.” He paused, then leaned into the hug, closing his eyes and letting himself feel warm in the embrace of his niece. “I was being silly. My real family is here.”

Willow smiled, but he didn’t see it. In the depths of his mind he saw Arielle sitting in her room, palms pressed to her eyes in frustration. He pictured a demon walking up behind her, patting her on the back, and returning her stuffed animal. He saw them hug; heard the girl’s soul say “I’m sorry I hurt you.” Felt a crack in the demon’s heart made by age-old trauma seal itself up in a flash.

He wasn't sure he was ready to let that hope die.

* * *

_“We’re so sorry for your loss.”_

_One tearstained hand folded over another and squeezed tight. A cough, and one hand jerked back to consult a handkerchief. An old lady’s snot missed its mark and flew through the air as her husband wrapped an arm around her and tried to calm her down._

_“Thank you,” Anna Pines responded, a faraway look in her eyes. “Thank you for being here.”_

_Dipper watched his parents greet their family members as they arrived at the synagogue. He couldn’t see their faces from his position up in the rafters, but their echoing voices reached him with perfect clarity._

_“My condolences for your son.”_

_“Thank you, thank you.”_

_“Such a horrible tragedy. If you ever need any help, we’re here for you.”_

_“Thank you, thank you.”_

_“You two must be heartbroken. How is Mabel holding up?”_

_“Thank you, th- yes. She’s… managing.”_

_Dipper slumped over so he was lying flat on the wooden beam. He stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine that the knots in the wood were part of some secret code. He pictured how the direction of the knot -- clockwise or counterclockwise -- would play into the meaning of an individual symbol; what it would mean for a slat of wood to have more than one knot, or none at all; how adjacent slats of wood with the same type and count of knots would be used to encode messages that could go undetected for years and years._

_There was a sharp, painful twist in his brain -- or whatever part of his thoughtform body did the same thing as a brain, since he certainly didn’t have a real one anymore -- and words flashed before his eyes. Lectures. Knowledge. Dossiers on all of the wood knot-based ciphers ever devised, from childhood games that were forgotten within days, to the still-uncracked schematics of_ The Globe of Science and Innovation _at CERN. Histories of all of the people who were involved in the building of this temple -- birth dates, death dates, and whether they ever studied cryptology. Numbers crunching and wires humming in sync to hand him on a platter the absolute fact that there was no secret message encoded on the ceiling._

_He clutched his head and moaned in pain from the onslaught of information. This had been happening a lot lately. When he’d try to enjoy the challenge of working through a problem, when he’d try to entertain himself by coming up with false histories for things, when he’d managed to get Mabel to sit still and hold a mystery book open for him to read. More and more frequently now, the answer would just appear like he was being punched in the head, along with a whole lot of other vaguely-related data that he didn’t want to know about and was now stuck with. Mabel called them his “infodumps”, ever since that time she saw him lying on the floor with palms pressed to his eyes and asked him what he was thinking about, and the words streamed out of his mouth so quickly and forcefully that she’d been physically knocked back._

_It was lucky that he was incorporeal at the moment, because a moaning noise coming from the rafters at a funeral would be sure to spook at least a few people. As it was, only he had to deal with the thundering nuisance that was his burgeoning demonic power. Unlike most things these days, the infodumps actually_ hurt _, and the more info they contained, the worse they were. On top of that, they were about the biggest killjoys he could imagine. He didn’t_ care _that there were no secret messages written on the ceiling -- he only wanted to pretend so that he didn’t have to keep hearing his mother’s stilted voice on loop._

_“Thank you. Tha- yes, we miss him very much. Thank you. You- you, yes, thank you. I mean it. Of course we want you here Uncle Denny -- Dipper was only two when he threw that toy train at you and I’m sure he didn’t mean it. Thank you. Th- no, we don’t need any help. We will get by. It won’t be necessary for any of you to stay at our house until we feel better. That- that would make us feel worse. Yes, worse. Sorry. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank y-”_

_“Hi Dipper!” boomed a cheery voice from right behind him._

_“Aagh!” Dipper cried out in shock. His hands lost their grip on the sides of the rafter he was lying on and he tumbled over the edge. His anxiety went into overdrive for one dreadful moment as he stared down a 20 foot freefall -_

_And then nothing happened, because he was a demon and he could float._

_“What are you doing?” called the voice. “Rafter games? You should’ve invited me!”_

_A hand wrapped itself around his foot and pulled him back onto the rafter. He flipped over and saw his sister sitting there, one arm hooked around a vertical rafter, and a big smile on her face. She was wearing a poofy black dress and a pillbox hat with a lace veil (“Broooo it’s like I’m in the movies!” she’d said. “When else am I gonna get the chance to wear something like this?”). He felt so out-of-place in comparison, in his t-shirt, vest, trucker hat, and sneakers, but he hadn’t wanted to change. Even though he was really starting to dislike his summer outfit, it was still at least something_ familiar _. Besides, he thought, why should he have to dress up to go to an event he wasn’t invited to?_

_Dipper sat up and took a few deep breaths -- breaths he didn’t need but was still comforted by. “Mabel, you scared me!” he replied finally. “I wasn’t paying attention!”_

_Mabel’s grin widened, and she did a fist pump with her free arm. “Then I’m still the master of surprise attacks! No demon super-senses can detect me! Alpha twin! Alpha twin! Alph-”_

_“What are you doing up here?” he hissed. Looking down into the temple, he saw a few people glance around -- likely confused as to where Mabel’s voice was coming from -- and then return to milling about. “Do you know how echoey it is in here? Probably everyone can hear you yelling! H-how did you even get up here?”_

_“A true spy never reveals her secrets!” she responded, tapping her nose. “But you’re my brother and it’s good to keep these things in the family, yknow? So I guess I can tell you that I... climbed, silly! With my hands! Don’t ask me if the splinters hurt because they totally do, haha.”_

_Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “How are you so upbeat right now? We’re at a funeral -- a literal_ funeral _that our parents are putting on for_ me _. Aren’t you upset?”_

_“Psshaw, why would I be upset?”_

_He glanced down again. “Everyone else is upset.”_

_“Yeah, but that’s because they all think you’re dead. I’m happy because I know you’re really alive, and you’ve got superpowers too! I told you, bro-bro, I don’t care if anyone looks at me weird -- I’m not gonna pretend that you’re dead!”_

_“What about Mom and Dad?” He could still hear his parents droning on down below. “They know I’m not dead.”_

_Mabel opened her mouth, and then faltered. Her smile finally fell, and she chewed nervously on her lip. Dipper raised an eyebrow, his point proven._

_“Okay, I don’t know how to answer that one,” she said after a pause. “They definitely know you’re alive -- and Dad finally stopped screaming every time he sees you! -- so it’s pretty weird that they’re throwing a funeral for you. Hey, maybe they’re planning a surprise at the end and they’re gonna show everyone that you survived after all! That wouldn’t… totally… be… awful… would it?” At the judgmental look on her brother’s face, she shook her head. “Okay, they’re probably not doing that. But there’s gotta be some reason! You should go ask them!”_

_Dipper spluttered. “What? Why me? I can’t exactly make an appearance!”_

_Mabel reached into her dress, pulled out a bar of chocolate, and waggled it in front of his face. “Uh-uh-uh! I know a special trick that can make demons show up anywhere, anytime!”_

_He facepalmed. “That’s not what I meant! We’re at my_ funeral _, Mabes, and people would notice if the guy who’s supposed to be dead is walking around asking questions!”_

_She shrugged. “Don’t get caught then!” Dipper scowled at her, and she bapped him on the nose. “It can’t be that hard, can it? I might be the master of surprise attacks, but you’re my second-in-command! And anyway, look, I think this is your chance!”_

_She grabbed his head and directed his gaze downward again. Their mother was walking rather quickly away from the front of the room and toward an opening on the side. A small burst of pain informed Dipper that this led to a hallway with a vending machine, a few single-stall restrooms, and no other people._

_“Come on, go talk to Mom!” Mabel pleaded. Clinging to the vertical rafter lest she fall, she reached into her dress again and pulled out a small piece of paper with Dipper’s summoning circle on it. She gnawed at a scab on her pinkie until it started to bleed, and then dabbed it onto the paper. Finally, she wrapped the paper around the bar of chocolate, and threw it as hard as she could. It landed on the floor by the opening and slid right through to the hallway._

_“Mabel, what are you_ doing _?” Dipper hissed._

_“You’ll thank me later when you’ve had a good talk with Mom!” she replied cheerily. “Good luck! Oh, and, seriously bro, you should smile more. Your face is gonna get stuck like that.”_

_Dipper started to splutter again, but couldn’t get a single word out before an invisible force_ yanked _him out of the rafters. He still wasn’t used to the feeling of reality rushing and collecting around him, and it was all he could do to stop himself from crying out in discomfort. Not a moment later, it was done, and he was standing in the hallway, his shoes making a soft squeak as they hit the floor. Quick as a whistle, he scampered out of sight of the doorway, and pressed his back up against the wall. He breathed -- sucked in more of that delicious air that he could actually taste now -- and waited for the inevitable shriek that there was a demon in the temple and everyone needed to run. Breathe in, breathe out, shudder, and wait._

_The shriek never came. Dipper cautiously peeked through the doorway. Nothing had changed -- people were still milling about and looking sad. A quick glance up into the rafters and -- Mabel was giving him a smile and a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes and pulled back into the safety of the hallway._

_Taking a deep breath, he walked down to the restrooms and pressed his ear up against the doors, one by one. They were all empty. He was confused for a moment until he realized that there was another door at the end of the hall -- one which strangely hadn’t shown up in the infodump from earlier. He gave it a tap with his foot and it glided open to reveal that it led outdoors, to a backyard of sorts, with trees and flowers and rocks._

_Dipper smiled as he took in the chirping of the birds, the gentle whisper of the wind through the trees, the slight crunch of the dirt beneath his footsteps. It was only a backyard -- it was nothing compared to the forest spiraling out around Gravity Falls -- but it still felt comforting. For a moment, he almost forgot why he’d gone outside._

_And then he heard something that sent a shiver down his spine._

_A sob. A staccato gasp for breath, cut off through sheer force of will. A deep inhale through the nostrils and then… a high pitched whimper._

_Dipper spun to his right and that’s when he saw her. His mother -- the most confident and in-charge person he knew -- sitting against the wall of the synagogue with her knees to her chest and clearly trying to hold back tears._

_“Get it together, Anna,” she choked out, as if scolding a child. “You’re_ better _than this. You’ve got to_ keep _it to_ gether _!”_

 _Dipper stumbled back in shock. He’d never in his life seen his mother cry. He had no idea what to do. Some part of him told him to run away, that this wasn’t worth it, he was_ way _out of his league with this one, and he should go before it gets worse -_

 _“Dipper is_ dead _, okay?” Anna’s voice cut into his thoughts, and it felt like she’d literally stabbed him through the chest. “Just keep saying it: he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead! You’ve got to get through this -- it’s for your family! You’ve got to keep them safe!”_

_His mother’s voice hitched, and she buried her face in her knees so she could sob. Dipper was way past startled at this point and was veering into panic. This wasn’t supposed to happen. His mother always knew what was going on, always knew how to keep a situation under control, always knew what was best for him and the rest of them. How could she be crying? It didn’t make sense._

_Unless she really thought he was dead. Unless -- he realized with a pang of horror -- unless the funeral wasn’t for show after all, and she and Dad really saw him as dead. He’d thought that they’d started to understand his situation once the initial shock of seeing him as a demon had worn off. That they were going to try to treat him the same as when he was human. If they thought their son was dead, then who --_ what _\-- did they think_ he _was?_

 _“This… this_ fucking _funeral, I swear…”_

_Dipper picked his head up at the sound of his mother’s voice again. The sobbing had stopped, and she was now clutching her head in her hands, sniffling. Her voice sounded weak and worried, which was almost worse than when she was yelling through her tears._

_“Oh stars, what am I going to do? There’s no going back after this funeral. There’s no way he could ever have a normal life. He can’t ever go back to school. He can’t ever make friends again. He- he won’t ever open a bank account or go on a date or fail a test or scrape his knee and need a hug from his mom…”_

_Dipper was trembling. He couldn’t just stand there and watch his mother mourn the loss of her son when he was_ still alive and right there damn it _! He had to do something. He had to think of something he could say to her to make her understand so she’d stop crying and then he could yell at her for pretending that he was dead. That would be infinitely preferable to… this. He just had to think… think… think._

_A sudden, sharp pain in his brain informed him that he may have been thinking too hard._

_He clapped his hand to his mouth and tried to think about something else, but it was too late. It was coming. The tidal wave of knowledge._

_And his mother was still talking, broadcasting her words into his malleable mind._

_“How can I keep him safe if I don’t know what can hurt him?”_

_A groan started to slip out of his mouth, and he put his other hand on top of the first to try and keep it in._

_“How can I help him grow up if I don’t know what he’s growing up to be?”_

_The air was kicked out of him, and he started to totter over._

_“What is his life going to be like now that he’s a demon?”_

_He didn’t know where the floor had gone, only that he was falling over. Try as he might to hold it in, a long, low moan escaped his lips, and he cried out, “Mom…”_

_His mother looked up with bloodshot eyes and gasped. “Dipper!” she screamed, scrambling to her feet._

_He gave a little wave, and then hit the ground, hard. The impact overpowered his senses, turning the world into a thick, snowy whirlwind. He coughed and something wet coated the hand that was still by his mouth. He felt like he was spinning faster and faster as more and more words shoved their way into his mind and he felt like he was going to explode._

_There was a jolt, and the spinning stopped. He still couldn’t tell where he was, but he felt himself get lifted into the air. For a moment, his surroundings flickered back into his vision. There was something goopy and yellow on his hand. The sky was cascading through every color of the rainbow, and then some he’d never seen before. And there was his mother’s face, looking panicked and mouthing something he couldn’t hear._

_He blinked. Tried to gather the strength to open his mouth._

_Then everything went black._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zalgo translations:
> 
> Alcor pretended to be deep in thought, and then snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah! That’s why! I hate you."
> 
> “You hated me so much that you preferred kicking your children out of your house to having to treat me like a person!"
> 
> Alcor spun around. “What?”


End file.
